Branded Roses
by Mystery Hunter
Summary: -permanent HIATUS- That night, in four different cities across the globe, five ten year old children vanished into thin air. "Now sleep," she whispered as she left. "Sleep and tomorrow you shall truly be my children." A smile. "Whether you want to or not"
1. Chapter 1

**The Beginning  
**~ (Five Years Previous) ~

Her high black heels clicked across the marble floors and up the polished wooden stairs. Pushing the door to the bathroom open she went to a mirror, where she pulled a small tube out of her black purse. Pulling the cap off of the lipstick tube she opened her mouth slightly and smoothed the red gloss over her already rosy lips. Snapping the top back into place she rubbed her lips together, spreading the gloss.

Music floated through the crack at the bottom of the door and she smiled slyly. The party was still going on downstairs, its guests oblivious to the fact that their VIP was not amongst them. She left the bathroom, snapping the silver clasp on her purse shut. She could hear other footsteps in the next hall down but she paid them no heed, she didn't care where they were going and they wouldn't care about some unseen figure.

She went to the window at the far northern side of the building and looked out. A shiny black limousine was parked on the side street, its driver leaning against the passenger door with a cigarette between his lips. She smiled as she turned and nudged the door to the fire escape open.

Halfway down the flight she met a man dressed in the uniform of a waiter. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak but before he could she lightly touched her middle three fingers to his brow. The man sagged against the wall and slid to the floor. Leaving him as he was she continued her decent.

Pushing the door open with her foot she stepped out into the cool, damp fall air. Hurrying to her car she nodded to the driver, who opened the door for her. Sliding into the long back seat she sighed and pulled her black satin gloves off. Her driver got in and started the car with a quick, practised motion. "M'lady?" he asked.

"To the airport Philip, I have a plane to catch," the woman replied. The driver eased the car of its parked position and started down the dark street.

"Another meeting with the young mistress?" the driver asked. She was silent, lips slightly parted as she opened her purse. The driver waited for an answer while she rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a compact and flipped it open.

Staring at her brandy coloured eyes she answered him, "That is none of your concern. Just make sure we get to the airport before my flight leaves."


	2. Chapter 2

**Paris, France**

Genevieve leaned against the banister as she surveyed the party-goers below her. She spotted her mom in her too perfect black sleeveless dress talking to a short bearded man over by the buffet, and her father in his slightly dusty black suit talking to a group of interested looking woman over by the bar. One of the women laughed and touched her father's shoulder; the short bearded man nodded and shook hands with her mother. The man left and her mother crossed the room while the women around her father remained as he talked some more.

Genevieve sighed and went back to her room, finding no source of pleasure in watching the rich people talk about expenses and flirt with each other's spouses. Genevieve giggled to herself; it would be so much fun to expose all of them to each other. Tell Mr. Talbot that his wife was cheating on him with their butler. Or tell her mother that everyone was only pretending to like the food and that most of them were going to go to a restaurant after. Or… or… Genevieve shut the door to her room and laughed out loud. What fun it would be to do all those things.

Practically floating to her bookshelf, she pried a think novel from the middle shelf. She settled down on her bed, cross legged with the book open in her lap. She flipped through the pages, barely reading over the words that she had to have memorized for tomorrow. Growing angrier and angrier with each passing page she finally stopped and threw the book across the room where it crashed into a table, sending it falling over backwards and pulling out the cord to her lamp.

She sat in the darkness for several minutes, trying to calm herself. Then she heard the click clack of her mother's heels on the hardwood floor outside her room. Her door opened and Genevieve refused to squint as a torrent of light poured into her room. "Genevieve?" her mother asked. "What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"I was trying to sleep," Genevieve replied. Her mother sighed. "Well turn on the light, I would like to talk to you."

"Yes Mother." Genevieve got up and, dragging her feet through her plush white carpet, went to the corner of the room where she had thrown her book.

She righted the table and the lamp and plugged the lamp back into its socket. As the bulb lighted Genevieve picked up the heavy book and placed it on the little table. She turned to face her mother, who stood in the doorway, one hand holding a tall glass filled with champagne, the other resting on the side of the doorframe. "I heard a crash, what's going on up here? As for you sleeping, it's only eight and you have a test tomorrow." Genevieve sighed. "I was studying Mother," she said, keeping her voice calm.

"Well I know that you haven't studied for long enough. You were working with your tutors today and helping me with setting up for my party. You've only been up here for four hours," her mother replied.

Genevieve kept her gaze on the floor. "Yes Mother," she replied through her teeth.

"What's that?" her mother asked. Genevieve looked up, all anger draining from her body as she opened her mouth to speak. "Mother," she started. "I think that you should know that lovely Mrs. Talbot is cheating on Mr. Talbot with their butler. Mrs. Oliviere has stolen several of your candles, which is why you can't find them. Mr. Jackson is on his seventh glass of champagne and he's currently trying to get Mrs. Roseare to come home with him. And everyone hates your cooking and most of them are going to be going to a restaurant after dinner to get the awful taste of your food out of their mouths."

That's it, she thought. You have tormented me past my years with all your knowledge of the world, and now I will share mine with you. You may not like it, but I don't like yours either. I am the tutor now, telling you stories of events that I only know. You think I like being privately taught by tutor after tutor? You think I like being alone with only myself for company? Well no more! These secrets will separate you from your 'friends' and I will finally get the mother I've always wanted... the vengeance that I have been seeking. And you will get the karma you deserve.

Genevieve smiled at the horrified look on her mother's face. "Genevieve?" Her mother screamed. Genevieve bowed her head. "I thought you ought to know," she said softly. She heard her mother's frantic footsteps run down the hall, the sound of her surprised and angry sobs as she slammed her bedroom door shut.

Genevieve quietly shut her own door and giggled. Coughing once she turned and faced the book on the corner table. Striding purposely up to it she picked it up. "One nuisance down, one to go." With that she carried the book to her window and dropped it out. She heard the thud as it made contact with something, then the wailing of a car alarm. Going to her bedside table she snatched up her cell phone and dialled a rarely used number. She sat on her bed and pushed her red framed glasses up her nose, waiting for the phone to be picked up. "Let's hope it was that horrid Mr. Talbot's car," she muttered.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. "'Ello?" came a voice.

"Professor Lee," Genevieve said.

"Who is… Miss. Genevieve?" Genevieve smiled slyly. "Yes, it is me Professor."

"What… what are you doing calling at this hour? Wha- Is anything wrong?"

"No, no. But that's just me. Listen carefully to me now: I know where you are and I know what you are doing. You are in your basement smoking illegal drugs and drinking ungodly amounts of liquor-"

"How-How do you know all this!"

"Be quiet _Professor _and listen to me!" Genevieve snapped.

She sighed, relishing in the power she had over him. He had to do whatever she wanted now. "You are going to call my mother tomorrow and tell her that you are sick. You are going to tell her that I do not need to take the test because it is above my grade level. Do you understand me so far?" Silence on the other end of the phone. "Mr. Lee! I said, do you understand me so far?"

"Yes." Genevieve smiled. "Good. You will say that you will see me next week and that all my studies from you will be put on hold until then." Genevieve was silent, waiting to hear if Mr. Lee would protest.

"Do you understand me Mr. Lee?" she asked.

"Ye-Yes Miss. Genevieve."

"Well then, have a good night." Genevieve snapped her phone shut and giggled, throwing her phone onto her pillow. She danced over to her window and stuck her head out, staring out at the tall lighted form of the Eiffel Tower. The lights twinkled as though they were putting on a show especially for her. Below the tower trees moved slowly with the wind, bending and twisting, like they wanted to take part in the lights' dance. She breathed in the cool fall air and leaned against the window sill. She stayed there for a long hour, thinking about nothing but the feeling of power.

She could blackmail anyone she wanted as long as she had one simple embarrassing fact. And with that said, she could blackmail most of the people downstairs. All she had to do was figure out what she wanted from them and it would be easy sailing from there. She had the powerful parents that made her untouchable to threats, she had the mind to come up with the plans, and she had the innocence of a ten year old to wrap everything up in a neat little bow. She was the devil's perfect little accomplice.

A knock on her door brought Genevieve down from her pedestal. She frowned and turned her head, thinking that it must be her father wondering where her mother had gone. But something inside her told her it wasn't, and that she had to be polite. Listening to that little voice Genevieve went to her door and opened it slowly. "Ye-?" She looked up at the lady that stood in front of her.

"Good evening Miss. Genevieve." Genevieve was surprised to see her but she didn't let the emotion reach her face. She unhooked a piece of hair that had gotten caught behind her glasses and stepped back from the door. "Come in…" Genevieve said slowly.

"Thank you dear," the lady replied with a smile. She settled down on Genevieve's bed and patted the spot next to her, as though asking Genevieve to come sit with her. Genevieve stayed near her door for a second before shutting it. She took a few tentative steps towards the lady before stopping.

"Can I help you?" Genevieve asked. The lady smiled. "No my dear, it's 'How can _I _help _you_'." Genevieve was confused. "What do you mean?" she asked. The lady patted the spot next to her again and this time Genevieve sat. "How can I help you?" the lady asked.

"I don't need any help with anything," Genevieve replied, her voice a tad sharp. The lady chuckled. "Your mother told me what you said to her." So that was why the lady was here, to speak on behalf of Genevieve's mother. "If my mother wants to talk to me then she can come in here and speak to me herself. I don't work through middle men," Genevieve snapped, quickly getting up from her bed.

She walked to the wall across from the lady and crossed her arms over her chest. The lady chuckled again and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin on her folded hands. "I don't come for your mother," she said. "I don't care about her, I care about you." Genevieve didn't like the look of the lady's blue eyes as she said that. The words sounded sinister, and the longer Genevieve looked, the more her eyes looked fake, just like her words. "My dear, how did you acquire all those secrets?" the lady asked.

"I listened," Genevieve replied. "It's not that hard. My baby brother could do it."

"And where is your brother?" the lady asked.

"He's with my aunt, but that's off topic," Genevieve replied. "What do you mean that you care about me? You've only met me twice." The lady smiled. "Genevieve, Genevieve, Genevieve," she crooned, standing up. "You're smart, you're beautiful, and you are in tune with the world around you." She was now standing directly over Genevieve. "Why wouldn't I care about you?"


	3. Chapter 3

**In A Little Town A Couple Kilometres Outside Moscow, Russia**

Dimitri shut his bedroom door and sighed in relief, from behind him Darya laughed. "What's so funny?" Dimitri snapped. Darya sighed and Dimitri turned to face her. "No need to be short," Darya said softly, not looking up from her sketchpad. "I'm not the babysitter." Dimitri grumbled under his breath as he perched himself on the side of the bed next to his twin.

"Do you hate our parents?" Darya asked after a few minutes. Dimitri was silent as he played with a strand of his sister's dark hair. "Do you?" he finally replied.

"It's not fair to ask me that and you know it, I asked you first," Darya replied. Dimitri chuckled. "So, do you?" Darya asked.

"I...I don't know. I don't love them but I don't hate them. I can't." The twins were silent. "Do you hate them?" Dimitri asked. Darya turned her head to look at him, her green eyes cold with anger. "Yes, yes I do."

Dimitri was taken aback. He knew that his sister and his parents had never gotten along, but he didn't think that Darya _hated _them. Darya, meanwhile, had gone back to her drawing, ignoring the look on her twin's face. Dimitri sighed and patted her head as he walked to the door. He could hear the babysitter moving about downstairs, turning the three locks on the door. Dimitri scowled.

He and his sister may have been ten years old but they were far from defenceless. He had a black belt and Darya was in the midst of earning hers. "Why don't you read or something?" Darya suggested quietly. Dimitri kicked the door, sending a small crack running up the center. The door had always been weak and Dimitri was glad to see that he had the strength to break it. Darya laughed quietly. "You know I don't work well with sitting still," Dimitri replied.

"Then go outside," Darya replied simply. Dimitri growled and ran his hands through his dark hair that was not unlike his sister's.

"Fine then," Darya muttered. She picked up a pencil crayon from her pile and started to fill in her picture. "What are you drawing?" Dimitri asked. Darya smiled angelically. "Our parents in a car crash. See, that's them there under the car," Darya replied, a tinge of excitement in her voice.

Dimitri swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat. He watched as she calmly wrapped a piece of her hair around her ear and picked up a red coloured pencil from behind her, no doubt for the blood in her gruesome picture. "I wish that this would happen, that they would die." Dimitri leaned back against the door and gasped. The room fell silent and Dimitri could once again hear the babysitter downstairs. She was moving around and he could faintly hear the TV on. His sister hummed from the bed and Dimitri couldn't believe what he was hearing, such calmness in a house full of uproar. Their parents were once again leaving them to be looked after by a babysitter, when they should be looking after them themselves.

The sounds of the calm broke him. He turned and flung open the door and, striding to the railing that overlooked the stairs, he screamed: "Why won't you just leave! Why won't you just leave us alone! We don't need you! We don't want you!"

The TV downstairs went silent and Dimitri stormed back into his room, slamming the door behind him. The crack widened and the door split in half, "Enough!" he screamed. He ran up to his sister and wrenched the sketchpad from her lap, "I can't believe that you actually want to see them dead! That you want to become an orphan when we are two of the few in this city that actually still have our real parents!" Then he ran to the window and threw the book out into the street. He looked over his shoulder at his sister, rage turning his freckled cheeks red. His sister stared at him, eyes wide, hands clutching the blanket in front of her. Tears streamed down her face; passing over the freckles she shared with her brother

Dimitri stepped up to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. "What are you thinking!" he screamed at her. He shoved her off the bed and she hit the floor hard, yelling out. He stood over her like a giant, a terrible, rage filled giant. She pushed herself up on one elbow as she stared up at him. She opened her mouth to speak at the same time that Dimitri slapped her. Her head snapped to the side and she screamed. Dimitri took several quick breaths. "What on _Earth _are you thinking?" he spat.

"Di-Dimitri," she sobbed.

She looked up at him, pain evident in her shock filled eyes. "Dimitri," she whispered. He glared at her before turning away, striding forcefully back up to the window. "I... I..." Darya stuttered behind him.

She stared at her brother, watched as his shoulders rose and fell with his angry breaths. She had never seen him this angry before. Was it because of her? She wiped the drying tears on her cheeks, which seemed to make room for the new batch that was now cascading from her eyes. "Dimitri," she called. He didn't turn, just kept on staring out at the barely visible city line of Moscow. "Why?" he asked forcefully. "Why would you draw something like that, let alone hope that it would happen?"

"I... You don't know Dimitri. You don't know what... You don't know how..."

"How they what!" he exclaimed, spinning around to face her.

She flinched back as he took a step toward her. "I don't know what? I don't know how they what!"

"You don't know how they treat me!" Darya screamed. "You don't know what it's like being the unwanted twin!" Dimitri was silent and Darya forced her eyes to remain closed. She didn't want to see her loving brother's face contorted with the rage he now felt.

"No matter how well I do in school, no matter how many competitions I win, they always love you more!" she cried. "They shower you with praise when you win a game or get a perfect score on a test! They just take a glance at me, at my hard work, and brush it under the pedestal that you stand on like a god." She swallowed and hiccupped. Silence hung in the air, as thick as molasses, separating the twins.

Footsteps in the hallway broke the unbearable silence, then the sound of the door falling. "Oh my!" The voice belonged to the babysitter; Darya had heard it from the top of the stairs earlier when her parents had left. "My dear! What happened!" Darya felt cool arms around her as the smell of dust invaded her nose. "What happened to you my dear?" the babysitter asked.

"I... I..." Dimitri stammered.

"It was an accident," Darya said quietly. "I... I fell off the bed and... and when I tried to get up I fell again." The room was silent. "It was an accident," Darya repeated. The lady sighed and stroked Darya's hair with a rough hand. Darya shifted in her arms, she didn't like the feel of the lady. She opened her eyes and looked up at Dimitri, who stood at the end of the bed, one hand braced against the top of the bedpost.

He didn't like the way the babysitter, Mary as his parents had called her, held his sister: she looked like she was about to grab Darya and run. His fingers bit into the wood of the bedpost and he exhaled slowly, trying to let go of the last ounces of anger in his system. "Well then we should get you downstairs and find you some ice," Mary said. "Dimitri, could you grab me the blanket off the bed." Mary stood, pulling Darya with her. Dimitri grabbed the blanket that Darya had earlier been clinging to when a buzzing noise came from Mary. "I'm sorry children, one moment," Mary apologized, smiling sweetly.

Keeping one arm around Darya's hunched shoulders she pulled a small, sleek black cell phone out of the pocket in her skirt. She pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?" she asked. The only noise in the room was a raspy voice from the phone. "Yes, of course, one... one moment." She lowered the phone and pressed the voice speaker to her shoulder. "Children, I'm sorry. This won't take a moment. Dimitri, dear, would you please take your sister downstairs?" Dimitri nodded and Darya reached out for his hand. He took it and led her down the stairs.

A couple seconds later the babysitter joined them, wiping at her eyes. Dimitri looked up from placing the ice pack to the back of his sister's head. Darya too looked up, her eyes red from the tears. "Children," the babysitter said, her voice controlled. "I have some... unfortunate news. It's about your parents..." Dimitri felt Darya stiffen under his hand and he placed his free hand on her shoulder. "That was the police on the phone. There was a car crash and... your parents were caught in it." Darya started to tremble and her hands sought for something to hold onto. She found the edge of the kitchen counter and held on tight, as though it were her own life line.

"I'm afraid that they didn't make it." Dimitri felt a single tear roll down his cheek, followed by nothing. No tears, no feeling, no thoughts. He couldn't believe what Mary had just said. Darya bit her bottom lip and dug her fingers into the marble. "They... they're dead?" she asked. The babysitter nodded solemnly, then walked over and brought the twins into her cool embrace. They remained that way for several long moments, Dimitri not thinking, and Darya over thinking.

Did she cause the crash? Did her picture send a message to God implying that she actually wanted her parents to be killed? If so, then how could He have actually taken her seriously? He would have known that deep down, deep, deep; deep down she had a miniscule part of her heart and soul where she really did love her parents.

The babysitter pulled back slightly, far enough that she could still look at and hold the children. "My dears, I know that you don't know anything about me, but what would you say to coming and living with me?" The twins were silent. "I was a friend to your parents," the babysitter explained. "And I would think it only fitting, that at least for now, you come home with me."


	4. Chapter 4

**London, England**

Asher vaulted himself over the fence, clutching his prizes to his chest. He stifled a laugh as he heard the police men run past the other side of the fence. Once their footsteps were almost inaudible he turned down the street he had hopped into and broke into a run. His mother would have to be happy today with him bringing home a bottle of red wine, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and large blanket. He tore down the street, his long legs taking the biggest steps he could make. Sharply turning a corner he skidded to a stop. There was a police man standing across the street at Mr. Gibbon's house.

Asher swallowed. He would never know what Asher had done if he didn't see him to ask. He ran down a driveway and into the backyard, where he hopped their fence. He hopped three more fences before he finally landed in his own backyard. He stood on the dying brown grass for a moment, trying to peer down the tiny alley that separated the houses and around the corner. Unable to see down the alley he cursed and stayed motionless. He ticked off the seconds in his head, waiting a minute before moving.

He sprinted to his back door, picked the lock and slipped into the quiet, dimply lit, damp kitchen. He would have gone through the front door with his key but he was afraid that the police officer would see him "Mom," he called softly. No answer. He bit his lip and prayed that she hadn't left on one of her drunken adventures. "Mom!" he called again, this time a little louder.

"I'm in here!" his mother yelled. Asher cringed. Her voice was slurred and loud compared to the silence that held the house captive and Asher could now smell the familiar stench of alcohol. "Did you get it?" she screamed.

Asher carefully made his way to the living room, where his mother had permanently stationed herself two years ago. "I got us something to eat and-"

"Forget about that!" his mother shouted at him. Asher stepped into the doorway of the living room where his mother was sprawled out on the pull out couch, an empty bottle in her hand. A name was scrawled across the bottle in sloppy writing: Natalie. Asher didn't understand why she had written her name on the bottle. Did she think that he'd mistake it for his own? Not likely.

Her eyes went from narrow her to wide as she spied the treasures in Asher's arms. Her arm reached out, hand grasping as though she hoped to reach the bottle from across the room. "You need to eat first," Asher told her. She laughed. "Give it here boy," he snapped, her mood switching back to angry. Asher shook his head, though he knew it was a dangerous move. When his mom was drunk she was unpredictable: she had mood swings, she could get violent, she could run away. "You need to eat first," he repeated, a bit firmer this time. His mother looked up at him, murder in her eyes. "Then I'll give you the wine." His mother's eyes softened. "Alright," she said simply. Asher sighed and headed to the kitchen when he heard yelling coming through the badly repaired window.

"You _cannot _just take her away from me! She's the only protection I got, the only family I got!" A lump formed in Asher's throat. He recognized the yelling voice. Leaving the toaster to do its thing he cautiously went to the front of the house and peeked out through the curtain that covered front door's window. The cop across the street had his partner holding onto the leash of Mr. Gibbon's dog. The cop himself was holding an arm out across Mr. Gibbon's chest as he reached for his pup.

"I'll be right back Mom," Asher said. Of course there was no answer. He unlocked the door and stepped out onto their old, sagging porch which was riddled with holes from water rotting through. He navigated his way around the holes and tender spots and went down the front steps. Without checking the street he darted across to where the cops and Mr. Gibbon were. "Um, excuse me officer?" Asher asked quietly. The officer speaking to Mr. Gibbon looked over at Asher. "Can I help you young man?" he replied.

Asher crossed his fingers behind his back. "I don't mean to stick my nose in other people's business, but I couldn't help but hearing your disagreement-" "Asher! Please! Please tell him that they can't take my Lacy, they just can't!" Asher looked over at Mr. Gibbon, whose red and puffy eyes were glistening with tears. Asher had always tried to help the broken, abused old man. His wife had left him a year ago with absolutely nothing, and, knowing what it was like to not have anyone, Asher had started to help him when he could. See if he could nab him some extra stuff on his outings, stop over for a visit, take Lacy for walks. That sort of thing.

"Officer, what Mr. Gibbon is saying is true. Lacy is his only company, and she protects him. This is a real dangerous part of the city you know." The officer sighed. "Son, why don't you go back home," he said. Asher didn't move. "Officer, why exactly are you taking Lacy away?" he asked. The officer looked to his partner who put the whining dog into the back of the squad car. "We are detaining Mr. Gibbon's dog because this dog is dangerous. It attacked a young man on Wednesday and witnesses state that Mr. Gibbon didn't do anything to prevent the attack," the officer replied sharply. "Now, son, I would suggest that you go home right now."

Asher looked from Lacy to Mr. Gibbon, then the cop. "I was there officer. The man Lacy attacked was Matt Shalvo, a known drug dealer in the area. If you want, I can tell you where he lives, but for a price," Asher replied, a smile tugging on his lips. The officer looked from him to Mr. Gibbon, who was beaming at Asher. The officer sighed. "A drug dealer or a dog protecting her master? What will it be officer? People in this area already don't like law enforcement and if they hear that you took the dog over the dealer then well…" Asher shrugged. "Now listen hear young man! I can pull you down to the station right now based on that!" the officer roared. Asher looked up at him innocently, his bright blue eyes shining, but inside he was thinking: Why don't you? There's no point for me to stay here. Mom wouldn't notice if I left, she doesn't care that all I think about are ways to help her. I bet that she thinks she'd be better off if I wasn't around.

"What did I do?" he asked sweetly. "You know what you did! You just threatened a police officer! " The officer grabbed hold of Asher's upper arm, but Asher was used to people roughing him up so he didn't react, he simply replied: "All I said was that the neighbourhood would be unhappy if you took Lacy away." The officer glared down at him and Asher stared back up. "So what will it be?" Asher asked. "The dog or the dealer?" The office released him, slightly pushing him back. "Fine kid, where is this Matt Shalvo?" he replied, a defeated tone in his voice. Asher smiled as he pointed behind him. "He hides out in the shed behind number 25 Sir," he said cheerfully. "His grow-op I think is in the basement of the house." "Does anyone live on the property?" the officer asked, jotting down notes on a pad of paper. Asher shook his head, his blonde curls bouncing.

The officer sighed. "Fine then. Release the dog." His partner opened the door to the car and Lacy bounded out and over to Mr. Gibbon. Asher noticed that the partner hadn't turned and the uniform was so straight that he couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman. He shrugged and looked at Mr. Gibbon and Lacy. He smiled at the reunion but then noticed the cop staring at him. "If this is false," he said, waving his pad. "Then I'll be back for the dog." With that he and his partner got in the squad car and drove off. Asher sighed and fell back onto the tiny patch of green grass that was Mr. Gibbon's lawn.

He looked over at Mr. Gibbon, who was hugging and kissing Lacy, running his hands through her blonde fur. He looked up and met Asher's gaze, his eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you so much. You are a lucky charm, a saint, and angel sent from heaven." Asher smiled kindly. "It was nothing, and it'll be great to see Matt behind bars." He sighed and looked up at the sky, which was slowly turning red with the upcoming sunset. "I have to be heading home…" he mumbled to himself. Mr. Gibbon was quiet and Asher looked over at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" Asher confirmed. Mr. Gibbon just smiled and nodded. Asher stood up and brushed himself off. Walking across the road, he dragged his feet, not wanting to return to his mom and her needy, drunken ways. Stopped at the beginning of his cracked pathway he gazed up at his old, beaten down house. Closing his eyes he wished that he could leave and never to come back. To restart his life and not know what is was like to have to over-worry about someone.

But then he reopened his eyes and knew in his heart that his wish would never happen. Not until his mom passed, which could be at anytime. And even when she finally did, what if it was too late? What if some things that he had done were irreversible? What if it wasn't possible to start his life over? He shook those thoughts away, roughly shoved them to the back of his mind where they could rot.

He carefully walked back up the stairs and let himself into the house, locking it firmly behind him. As he made his way to the kitchen he peeked into the living room to check on his mom. He found her passed out on the couch, a half a piece of toast on a plate and the new bottle of wine on its side, a dead solider. Asher sighed, half in relief, half in annoyance. He was glad that his mom had actually gotten up off her butt and gotten herself something to eat, but he was annoyed that she couldn't wait. When he did something for someone, he did it all the way.

Knowing she wouldn't wake until late the next day he went to the kitchen and made himself something to eat, then went upstairs to his bedroom. He entered his room and sat down on his mattress to eat his dinner. After a couple minutes his eyes began to get heavy and he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. Maybe he could have a small nap...

He woke up a couple hours later to someone heavily banging on the door. He jumped out of bed, sending his plate and uneaten peanut butter sandwich falling to the dirty floor. Sprinting down the stairs he fumbled with the locks on the door before wrenching it open. "It's past midnight. What do you-?" Asher stopped midsentence as he looked up at the person he was yelling at.

His breath caught in his throat: it was the cop's partner from the day before. Except that he hadn't realized at that time that the partner was female. Asher blinked and stammered for something to say. The lady put a hand lightly on the top of his head. "Rest easy," she said. "I just want to talk to your mother." Asher looked around the small hallway, then back to the beautiful lady in front of him. "She... she's asleep. That was... that was why I... why I-" "Why you were trying to get the door, yes, I understand my dear. And you say that your mother is sleeping?" Asher nodded and the lady smiled like that was the answer she was hoping to hear.

"Is it possible to wake her?" she asked. Asher shook his head furiously. "No ma'am. She'll be out until..." He tripped over his words. "...until tomorrow morning." The lady nodded. "My dear, there is no need to lie to me. I am the police after all. You can tell me anything." Asher swallowed. She didn't look so much like a cop at the moment, with her knee length black skirt and loose red shirt it was enough to confuse anyone to her occupation. The lady laughed and Asher cringed, she sounded like a demon crying.

"If you want to speak to my mom you should come back in the morning. Sorry, but I can't help you," Asher said, going to close the door. He no longer found the lady attractive, now she just scared him. The air around her shimmered with something not unlike a warning sign, telling him to forget his thoughts of beauty to recognise the danger this lady carried like a neon sign. "I actually don't want to speak to your mother," she said, placing a hand on the door. Asher looked up at her. "What do you want then?" he asked.

The lady smiled. "I would like to talk to you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Los Angeles, United States of America**

Selene growled as her dodge-ball ball yet again missed its target. Another one of her team mates went down and Selene whipped her head from side to side, assessing who was still left. It was now her and two other people against the top ten dodge-ball players in the class.

Another team mate went down and Selene snatched up a ball from the floor, took aim, and fired. It sailed right over her target's head and Selene groaned just as a hard rubber ball collided with her stomach and another with her head. She dropped to her knees, holding her stomach and trying not to be sick. The teacher blew his whistle and Selene looked up to see her classmates surrounding her in a tight circle.

Selene stood up slowly, ignoring the throbbing in her head. The class parted as she went to the far wall and scooped up two balls in her hands. Then she took aim at two specific girls and threw her hardest. The balls bounced innocently off the girls' chests as everyone, including the teacher, starred at her in awe. Selene hung her head as tears trickled down her cheeks.

An arm appeared around her shoulder and led her out of the gym. Halfway down the hall she shrugged it off. She didn't want to be comforted; she wanted to be able to hurt those kids like they hurt her. She was sick of them being so strong and cheating all the time and getting away with it. She was sick of them rubbing it in her and her team's faces after every single game that they won.

Selene and the teacher got to the office and Selene sat down on the bench while the teacher got her some ice. He came back and handed her the ice pack before sitting next to her. "Are you ok?" he asked. Selene nodded. "You aren't crying because you're hurt." Selene shrugged. "I don't know," she mumbled. The teacher patted her on the shoulder. "There, there. You sure did show them though," he said. Selene looked up at him, her face blank. "How?" she asked mockingly.

The teacher seemed uncomfortable and was quiet for a long moment before speaking and changing the subject: "How are you feeling? Do you want to call home?" Selene shook her head. "Mom won't be home," she said.

"Well then do you want to call her at work?" the teacher offered. Selene bit her lip, her mom would be pretty angry if she called her during an interview or a meeting. "I can stay here, I'm alright," she replied. The teacher looked sceptical but nodded. "Alright then. I'll let you sit here for a few minutes while I get the rest of the students back to class, then I'll come see how you're doing. Sound fair?" Selene nodded and watched as he left the office.

Selene placed the ice to her head and cringed. It was cold and the ice was hard against her paining head. How did you throw a rubber dodge-ball so hard so that it could cause physical pain anyway? She sighed and swung her legs back and forth to her heart beat. She wished that she could call her mom to come pick her up, she was feeling slightly nauseated and she could feel the pain in her head worsening. But she couldn't call her mom, not if it meant possibly interrupting her at work. Mom wouldn't like that. She would get angry for being called out of work, especially if she was working with one of her richer, higher status clients. It was nice that her mom worked as an agent because it helped to support them and it allowed Selene to go to her language classes, but it was terrible because her mom was never home and was never able to get away from work if something went wrong with Selene.

She looked up at the teacher entered the office. "The rest of the class is settled. How are you feeling?" Selene shrugged. "Ba mhaith liom teach a ghlaoch," she muttered in Irish. The teacher's eyebrows scrunched together. "Pardon me?" he asked. Selene thought of another language that her teacher wouldn't know. "Gusto kong tumaway sa bahay," she offered in Filipino. She wanted to go home, but she wouldn't tell her teacher that, because he'd say that the only way to do that was to call her mom. As long as Selene knew what she wanted, it didn't matter if anyone did, and it sure didn't matter if anything happened to get her what she wanted. She just wanted the self assurance that she was able to think for herself.

"Selene, please. I want to help you. But I can't if you're speaking languages that I don't understand," the teacher told her.

"Vull trucar a casa," she muttered one last time in Catalan. The teacher sighed and stood up. "Selene," he warned. "Enough. We're in an English speaking school; please speak to me in English." Selene looked up at him. "I'm fine. I can come back to class," she said softly. The teacher smiled slightly. "Alright then, let's go. We're just starting French, that should bring up your spirits."

Selene shrugged but followed him down the empty hallway. When they entered the classroom everyone fell silent and rushed to get to their own seats. Almost everyone stared as Selene made her way to her seat up at the front of the room. Her friend, Ali, looked at her sympathetically from across the room. Selene shook her head. Ali wasn't a really close friend, but she was nice enough that they'd talk and walk around at recess. Selene didn't really have any best friends, close friends, people that could understand her, unless you counted the languages she pored over in the middle of the night or the sports she tried so desperately to get better at.

She wanted to know how to play all the different sports and games the other kids played because she wanted to have friends, but the other children thought it unnatural that she tried so hard. As for the languages, she learned them because she found them interesting and a way of passing time, and because her mother had started her on them thinking that you needed to know every language on the planet to get a good job. It was like that for her, why shouldn't it be for everyone else? What Selene's mom didn't realize was that that wasn't true.

Selene settled into her seat and propped her elbow on her desk, keeping the now slightly melted ice pack to her head. "Alright class, we'll be working on pizza toppings today," the teacher told them. The class whispered amongst themselves, some excited, some bored, but Selene did nothing but groan inside her head. She already knew French. Her mother's family was French, so the language was as basic as the 1, 2, 3's and A, B, C's in Selene's household. French class in school was basically just a time where she could be picked on for being smart and work on other languages in her head, trying to translate the French into whatever language she picked for the day.

So while the teacher talked about le bacon, le jambon, le fromage, Selene was slowly translating it into Italian with the help of a little pocket Italian dictionary she had in her desk. Lately, like dodge-ball, Italian had been what she has been striving to perfect for the past week or so. "Now back to the review from Monday," the teacher announced. Selene snapped out of her French to Italian world and listened to the teacher. "How do you say 'I am ten years old.'?" Selene was silent as she waited for someone to answer.

A few people tried, one boy got close, but no one got it right. "Selene?" the teacher asked. Selene wanted to curl up under her desk and hide. "Can you help us out?" Selene sighed and bit her lip. "J'ai dix ans," she mumbled. The teacher clapped. "There we go everyone! Now, copy that into your books and we'll have a test on Friday on the easy questions: how old are you, what's your name, where do you live. Stuff like that. Now take out your math text books and let's start on our graphing unit."

At recess Selene played basketball by herself. A few minutes into her single person game the clouds opened up and it began to rain. Kids ran yelling into the building, leaving Selene outside on the playground. But she didn't mind, she actually preferred being by herself, there was no one to tease her for trying to sink a basket. She tossed the ball towards the net, using all the tips she had gotten from movies and from watching the other kids. The ball hit the rim and spun. Selene began to smile but then the ball spun out and landed at her feet.

Selene bent to pick it up and when she righted herself she saw a lady standing next to the basketball net. "Hello," she said pleasantly.

"Bonjour," Selene replied. The lady smiled. "I'd prefer that we converse in English. French may be my first language but I'm a little rusty," she said. Selene bit her lip. "Are you the new French teacher?" she asked. The lady shook her head and chuckled. "No my dear. Why? Are you in need of a new one?"

"Um..." Selene wasn't sure what to say. She checked her watch, five minutes until recess was over. She looked around the playground. The lady and her were the only people in sight. Was she that forgettable that they didn't realize that she hadn't come in with the rest of the kids? "I know how you feel," the lady said. Selene looked to her. "You... Pardon?" Selene asked.

"I know how you feel about being out of the loop, about always feeling like you can't fit in any way. I know what it's like to be an outcast."

Selene felt like someone had just slapped her. No one had put her feeling into words like this lady just had. Most people would call her socially lacking or say that she didn't have any social skills but no one... no one had called her an outcast before. "It's not a nice term my dear, but you know what I mean don't you?" Selene nodded and looked at the ground.

She tossed the basketball up to the net without looking and she heard the unmistakable swish as the ball sunk through. She looked up in amazement and a smile blossomed on her pale face. Forgetting about the woman, she cheered. She cheered and spun in several small circles, opening her mouth in laughter as the rain fell heavier and heavier from the grey sky. It drenched her brown hair and her simple clothes but through the rain her brown eyes sparkled with a happiness that she hadn't experienced in several weeks.

But then, through her happy haze she heard someone chuckle and that brought her back to the present. Back to the present where the mysterious lady stood beneath the basketball net and the two of them were the only people standing outside in the pouring rain. Instantly Selene felt cold seep through her bones and she hugged herself, starting to shiver. The lady walked over and pulled her black jacket from around herself. She set it on Selene's shoulders and tucked it in around her, smiling as she did so.

"How about we go find a better place for you and I to talk?"


	6. Chapter 6

**And So...**

That night, in four different cities across the globe, five ten year old children vanished into thin air. But they were never missed, because that night something in the world had changed: Genevieve Deschamps, Dimitri and Darya Witt, Asher Fleur, and Selene Spencer were erased from the earth, any and all records gone with them. It was as though time had rolled back, the parents had decided not to have children, and then everything fast forwarded to the present. No birth certificates, no school records, no baby teeth. Nothing.

And the children were nothing special to each other. They didn't know each other, they weren't related in any way, but there was something that bonded them: in a way none of them had a family and none of them had friends. In short, even if the world had been alert to the disappearance of these five children, there wouldn't be anyone to spend late nights and early mornings searching through paperwork and suspects to find them.


	7. Chapter 7

Darya was the first one to wake up. She groaned and rolled over, cringing as the beginning of a headache set in. Opening her eyes slowly she found herself in a small dirty room with no windows. A door was set into the wall a couple feet away, and even though it sat wide open no sound came through. Darya sat up, placing her hands behind her to support her heavy body. Mumbling and groaning from behind her made her turn her head.

She turned herself around to see her brother curled in on himself on his side, sweat beading on his forehead. Darya pressed a hand to his brow then ran her hand through his short dark hair. His groaning and mumbling ceased as she sat there, stroking his hair for seemed like hours. Even when she was sure that she herself slipped into a slumber, her hand still moved, still ran her fingers through his soft hair.

Throughout her waking moments and her sleeping ones the world was always silent, so silent in fact that she could swear that she could hear sounds and voices. Some voices sounded as though their speakers were inside the walls, muffled and distant. Others sounded as though the person were above her, but through a cloth. She thought she heard music, the sounds of birds, the sound of the streets.

No clock allowed her to see the time during her waking moments. No window to see whether it was night or day. No way to tell how long everyone had been together in the small apartment. Was it even an apartment? Darya didn't remember much after the babysitter had talked to her brother and her. The babysitter had explained everything, then said that once they reached their destination that she'd have to leave. Have to leave to find another child? Darya's eyes fluttered and closed and she could once again hear the voices and sounds that had been absent during thinking.

Then finally, during one of her short spans of awareness she heard a voice, no, two voices. And these were real, not her dream sounds. Still not removing her hand from her brother's hair she craned her neck to see out the open door. The babysitter appeared in her vision and Darya's breath caught in her throat. She was no longer 'the babysitter'; she was just 'the lady' now. Darya had asked her name but the lady had told her that knowing someone's name could be dangerous. She said that names were powerful and, in the wrong hands, could prove harmful to the person who bore them.

Right now, the lady was leading a short girl with shoulder length brown hair and big brown eyes. She had the black trench coat that the lady had been wearing when she had taken Darya and Dimitri to her car. The girl seemed to be shivering and she pulled the over large jacket tighter around her tiny body. "Who's this?" Darya cringed as she saw Genevieve step out into the hallway; she hated the voice of that blonde brat.

Genevieve moved to stand between the lady and the new girl. The new girl took a step backwards and tripped over the tail of the jacket. Genevieve stood over her and stared, hands on her hips, then stared up at the lady. "Why did you want her? She's nothing special. At least those stupid little twins can speak."

"Quem não pode falar!" the girl screamed at her. Genevieve brought her foot back to kick her but before she could the lady put a hand on her shoulder. "Genevieve," she said. She looked over at Darya. "Darya. This is Selene."

Selene looked from the lady, to Genevieve, to Darya, and back to Genevieve. "Who can't talk?" Selene repeated, this time in English. "I know more languages than-" Genevieve rolled her eyes. "Whatever you little twig," she said. Selene pulled herself to her feet as Genevieve went into a room and slammed the door. Selene looked over at Darya who quickly looked away. Selene could see part of another person but she didn't ask about them. "Don't worry about Genevieve my dear," the lady continued, patting her on the head. Selene shrugged and tightened the jacket around her. "Let's get you to your room," the lady said, placing a hand on Selene's shoulder and moving her towards an empty room.

"M-Ma'am," Darya called softly. The lady walked over and stood in the doorway. "Yes?" she asked. Darya bit her lip and looked to her brother, then looked to the lady. "Will-"

"Will Dimitri ever wake up?" Darya bit her lip and shook her head. "No... I know that he will but... What about Asher?" The lady suddenly took on the same air of menace that she had taken earlier in the car when she had been talking to Dimitri.

He had asked about where they were going, where they were going to stay. The lady had told him a hotel, but he pressed her with more questions. He didn't understand why she was staying in a hotel. She told him it was complicated. He asked for a more elaborate answer on why she was taking them in. Darya had seen the lady's hand twitch on the steering wheel, as though she were resisting the urge to turn around and slap Dimitri. "Child," the lady had said. "You ask far too many questions. You must learn to hold them back and bite your tongue." Her words were sharp, like the edge of a blade. Darya had glanced at her brother and seen anger boiling in his eyes.

"Asher... will wake up yes. But do you remember what you and Genevieve, and now Selene, have been told about? Do you remember what I had to say to him?" Darya nodded and sighed. "So Asher will be ok?" she confirmed. The lady sighed, showing the first hint of annoyance that Darya had seen since she had met her. "Yes he will, now tend to your brother and I will see you soon." With that the lady turned on her heel and the world became silent once more.

Darya sighed and looked back to Dimitri, whose eyelids were fluttering. His mouth opened slightly and he shifted under her hand. He moaned before slowly opening his eyes. "Dimitri?" Darya asked. He blinked and looked up at her. "Darya?" he asked. Darya wanted to cheer but instead she smiled. "Hey," she said. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and Darya's hand fell into her lap. Dimitri yawned and rubbed his eyes. "How are you feeling?" Darya asked. Dimitri looked at her and shrugged. "Fine I guess." Darya held back a smile. He was alright. That meant that the side effect the lady had told her about wasn't happening. He should have been ill, but instead she just saw that he had been plagued with dreams all through his sleep. "That's good."

"Where's everyone else?" Dimitri asked, looking around the room.

Darya looked out the open door and then looked back to him. "They're all in their own rooms. We're supposed to get some rest."

"Ok then." Dimitri lay back on the floor and yawned. "Have you slept at all Darya?" he asked. Darya shrugged. "A little." He took her hand and tugged. Darya sighed and lay down next to him. He put an arm over her and Darya smiled. She was glad that he wasn't angry anymore. But she was even happier with the fact that he had, in the end, trusted her.

Darya took her brother's hand and looked out the open door. She squinted, thinking that she saw a person sitting in the shadows across the hall. But then she blinked and there wasn't any trace of a person being there. She sighed and closed her eyes, wishing that she could sleep for a long, long time.

Selene watched the twins quietly, scooting farther into the wall's shadow when Darya spotted her. Selene sighed and looked down the hall. They didn't know how lucky they were. Selene didn't know about their parents or if they had friends, but it wouldn't matter because they had each other. They would always have each other, not matter what. They were twins and they shared that bond, so they'd always have each other.

A tear trickled down her cheek. She... she had no one. Well, not anymore. Now that the lady had found her she had her. "And I guess I have the rest of the people too," she muttered to herself, tugging the lady's jacket even tighter around her. "Genevieve..." she murmured. "Darya...and twin... one more... Who knows if there's any more than us...?"

Selene stood up, mumbling to herself. She went into the room that the lady had told her was hers. "Mar sin, cad anois?" she asked herself, continuing with her habit though there was nothing to convince herself about. "So what now?" She sat down in the farthest corner, which was about a classroom length from the door, and pulled her legs up to her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes. She wasn't tired. She was too... awed. Too confused. Too...excited and happy to sleep. She was awed that the lady had chosen her to be one of her children. She was excited and happy that she had been taken away from the life that had almost made her depressed. She was glad that she had been brought to this new family.

As she thought she could feel sleep tugging on her body, pulling her down to slumber. But she wouldn't fall asleep, no no no. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

She opened her eyes and stood up, shaking her hands then running them through her hair. "Tá a fhios agam," she whispered to herself. "I know... I can practise... Practise anything I want and... and there's no one to criticise me." She broke into a smile then started to pace around her room, talking to herself first in Irish, Italian, then French, German and over and over she went, through her languages, all the while going over her stances and follow throughs and plays for her sports. She did anything to stop her from falling asleep and putting herself into the realms of darkness that were her usual dreams. Also, she just didn't want to sleep. She wanted to be awake and see if anyone else would come, see if the lady would come and talk to her or even pass by. She could get the chance to say thank you...

In the other room, Genevieve was listening in. Genevieve laughed and stretched her arms above her head. "So, the little freak has issues with people huh? Well no wonder. No one can understand her. English please." She laughed again. "Oh well, it helps us. She won't realize what's happening until it's already happened, and by that time, she won't be able to stop it." She propped herself on her elbows and looked around her small grey room.

"I wonder how this is all going to work. With Dimitri and Asher both out of the real picture... Will it matter? Will everything go as planned?" Genevieve shrugged and smiled. "It won't matter really... we'll make it work- _I'll _make it work." She laughed and lay down on the floor, lacing her fingers together over her stomach. "This is what my whole life has been pushing me to do. All the annoyances I've faced... it's all so that I'd know that this is the saving grace of my life. This is what I was always meant to be, always what I've meant to do. I've always been meant to help this lady, I've always been meant to help her kind. " She smiled and closed her eyes. "And finally it's here... my chance to do what I've always meant to do."

As all the children fell asleep, including Selene who was in the middle of a sentence, the lady stood down the hall, watching them all through their open doors. She smiled, her red lips pulling back to reveal pure white teeth. "They are now mine," she whispered. Taking a step forward she pressed three fingers to Asher's door, then three to Dimitri's and Darya's door. "Whether they like it or not."

She crossed the hall to Genevieve's and Selene's doors and peered into each one, stopping at Genevieve's. "It doesn't matter whether you dislike Selene or not," she whispered through the crack in the door. "Selene is your sister now, and she will play a key part in your future."

Turning on her heel, skirt flying out behind her, she stalked down the hallway. "Now sleep," she whispered as she left. "Sleep and tomorrow you shall truly be my children."


	8. Chapter 8

~ (December: Five Years Later) ~

"-and Merry Christmas to all! Please, enjoy the food and entertainment. We, your hostess', aim to please." Mrs Day ended her speech with an award winning smile. She looked at Mrs. Grahm who was smiling as well, but her smile seemed uneasy. After the applause died down and their guests started to mingle, Mrs. Day turned to her best friend. "What is it Laila?" Mrs. Grahm clasped her hands together. "Lisa, that wasn't all of our guests," she said.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Day asked. Laila cleared her throat, "I invited a couple people last minute..." Lisa was taken aback. "How? You never do anything last minute?"

Laila smiled like a child. "She was just so... interesting. She spoke of the world and of politics and art and she has five children who are all going to be applying to Webster, so I thought it would be a good idea to invite them." Just as Laila finished her sentence a voice rang out clearly from behind them: "Mrs. Grahm, such a pleasure to see you again."

Laila and Lisa turned around to face the doorway where a tall regal looking woman stood with five equally stunning teenagers. Laila smiled at her friend before striding up to the woman. "Mrs. Luseer, this is my life time friend Lisa Day," she introduced. Mrs. Luseer reached her hand out and Lisa shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you; Laila has told me so much about you." Lisa looked at her short, plump, best friend. "Oh?" she asked, looking back up at Mrs. Luseer. "How long have you two known each other?"

"A few years, not as long as I wish," Mrs. Luseer replied with a smile.

Laila smiled and Lisa mirrored her. "How nice," she said. She looked behind Mrs. Luseer to the teenagers. "Are these all your children?" she asked, surprised. She looked at Mrs. Luseer. "You look much too young for these all to be yours." Mrs. Luseer laughed.

"How old do you see me as?" she asked. Lisa was a little surprised at her question. "You can't be over thirty," she replied. Mrs Luseer smiled slyly and shook her head. "No, no Mrs. Day. I am older than that, and these are my adoptive children." Mrs. Luseer looked to the teenagers. "Don't just stand there, be polite, introduce yourselves." Laila saw the smile on Mrs. Luseer's face as she said it but she could detect the underlying message that being not polite was not an option.

The blond haired boy was the first to step up. "I'm Asher," he said politely, his voice soft. "Asher Luseer." Mrs. Day smiled and shook his hand. "Pleasure to meet you Asher," Mrs. Day replied. Asher looked around the room. "Why don't you go say hello to my son? You seem to be about his age, maybe you'll be in the same class when you come to Webster's." Mrs. Day gestured to the back of the room. "He's the tall, red haired one in the black suit." Asher was about to say that there were many black suited people but then he saw the flaming hair of the lady's son. "Thank you Mrs. Day," he said. He looked back to Mrs. Luseer, who smiled kindly. "Go ahead son." Asher nodded and headed off.

The next one to step forward was a dark haired little girl, followed by a boy that was obviously her twin brother. "I'm Darya," the girl said. "And this is my brother Dimitri." Mrs. Day shook their hands, then looked at the boy, who seemed to be keeping his gaze on the floor. Darya caught Mrs. Day looking at Dimitri and smiled. "Dimitri's a little shy around new people, sorry," Darya explained. Mrs. Day shook her head. "No need to be sorry, I'm sure he'll warm up soon. Why don't you go and mingle around with the other children?" Darya nodded excitedly and took her brother's hand. "Come on, let's go meet people," Darya said.

Lisa chuckled as they left and looked down at Laila, who was smiling excitedly up at her. "I knew it was a good idea to invite them," Laila whispered. Lisa laughed again just as a girl with flowing blonde hair and thick red framed glasses stepped up. "Genevieve, Genevieve Luseer." She stuck her hand out. Lisa was taken aback a little as she warily shook the girl's hand. "I heard that you're the secretary at Webster," Genevieve said. Lisa nodded. "Yes, yes I am." Mrs. Luseer put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Be nice," she said. "Why don't you walk around and meet some of your classmates?" Genevieve looked over her shoulder at her adoptive mother. "Alright." She looked back at Mrs. Day. "It was nice to meet you." Then she set off towards the middle of the room.

"Well you have some lovely children," Lisa said. Mrs. Luseer smiled and nodded. "Thank you," she replied. Laila smiled and Lisa looked down at her. Looking back up at Mrs. Luseer she smiled. "Well I should go and make sure that the caterers are keeping up with our guests. I will find you later on this evening no?" Lisa proposed. She went to elegantly bow out but Mrs. Luseer spoke up. "But Mrs. Day, you haven't met my third daughter."

She pushed a mousy looking girl forward and smiled. The girl's brown eyes seemed empty as she stared at the floor. Her mouth moved as though she was speaking to herself. "My dear?" Mrs. Luseer asked. The girl franticly looked up, her eyes wide as though she thought she was in trouble. "Evening Madam," she said, shakily talking Lisa's hand. Her pale skin flushed and Lisa smiled awkwardly. "What's your name?" Lisa asked slowly. The girl seemed to trip over her words as she replied. It was as though English was not her first language "My name's Selene," she said. "Selene Luseer."

"Your names complement each other," Laila spoke up with a smile. Selene looked at her, her faded brown eyes amused. "Pardon me?" she asked.

"Your names, Selene and Luseer, they sound nice said next to each other," Laila repeated. Selene blushed again. "Thank you Mrs. Grahm." Her hand flew to her mouth as though she had told a secret. Laila laughed and touched Selene's free hand. "Why don't you go enjoy the party?" she offered. Selene nodded sharply. "Y-Yes… perhaps…" Her voice trailed off as she timidly walked away. Lisa and Laila exchanged a glance before looking at Mrs. Luseer.

"Your children are very well mannered," Lisa pointed out. "But Dimitri and Selene seem a bit-" Laila started.

"Shy?" Mrs. Luseer finished. "Yes. They are. But I'm sure that they will come out of their shells before school starts." Lisa smiled. "I'm sure they will," she said. "It seems like you have them all under control," Laila commented. Mrs. Luseer smiled. "Yes Mrs. Grahm, yes I do."


	9. Chapter 9

Across the room Asher smiled as Dylan, Mrs. Day's son, introduced him to another friend of his. "This is Claire," he said. Asher smiled and shook hands with the petit brunette. "Nice to meet you," Asher said. Claire beamed, showing a set of green braces. "It's nice to meet you too," she replied. Asher stuck his hands in his back pockets as Dylan started to talk to Claire. Asher liked the people so far, they were nice and they were simple. Nothing like his family, who were complex and somewhat moody. "Asher?" A cool hand touched his bare forearm. He blinked and turned his head. "Yes?" he asked. Claire smiled. "I'm getting Dylan and myself a drink, would you like one?" she asked.

Asher inclined his head towards her. "Let me accompany you," he replied. Claire smiled again and Asher looked over at Dylan. "That ok?" he asked. Dylan laughed. "Why wouldn't it be? Go ahead man, take as long as you want." Dylan looked to Claire. "If I'm not here when you get back, I'll be over talking with Jack." Claire nodded and motioned Asher to follow her. They walked in silence across the room to where the caterers had set up the buffet. "So how are your holidays going so far?" Claire asked, picking up a glass. Asher shrugged and picked up two. "Relatively nice, considering that we've just moved into a new apartment. We just finished unpacking the last box this afternoon, before we got dressed to come here," he told her.

Claire stared up at him, surprised. "Oh wow. You moved during the holidays? That must have been hectic!"

Asher chuckled. "Not as much as one would think," he replied with a smile. Claire bit her lip and held out her glass to be filled. A server behind the table took it and filled it with what looked like Sprite. Asher sneaked a glance at a semi open cooler behind the server and smirked: the green Sprite bottle sat in his line of vision. Still smiling he watched as Claire got her glass back. "Where did you move from?" Claire asked. Asher pointedly looked away from her as he got his and Dylan's glasses filled.

Turning back to look at Claire he replied, "We moved from Seattle, Washington." Claire's mouth fell agape and Asher held back a laugh. She quickly composed herself as they started to walk again. "Seattle? You… But why did you move all the way over here? You're… You're on the other side of the country!" she said in disbelief. "Wouldn't you want to move somewhere still in your state, still in your city?" Asher shook his head. "None of us were overjoyed in Seattle. We are all big dreamers and we thought that New York would help us to make those dreams a reality."

"And by 'we' you mean…?" Claire's question trailed off.

"I mean myself and my siblings," Asher replied. Claire looked confused and Asher pointed across the room. "That pair over there, the tall, dark haired boy and girl, do you see them?" Asher asked. Claire looked where he pointed and nodded. "Yeah," she replied.

"That's Dimitri and Darya. They're biological twins but they're also my adoptive siblings. Now, over there, the girl with the blonde hair and red glasses? That's Genevieve."

Claire nodded. "And she's your adoptive sibling as well?" she asked.

"Yes. Now one moment. Where is Selene... Oh. Do you see the girl over by the other side of the doors? Brown hair, kind of short?" Claire nodded again. "That's Selene, she's my other adoptive sister," Asher told her.

Claire looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "And your adoptive mother took all of you in?" she asked, a confused look on her face. Asher nodded and gave a small smile. "Yes, Madam Luseer took us all in. She's a very nice woman," he said softly. Claire gave a smile that showed her braces. "Well that's nice. Do you like them?" she asked. Asher gently touched her on the wrist and motioned for them to start walking. "They're nice. Selene and Dimitri are both quiet, but Darya makes up for them both. Genevieve…" He shrugged. "I can't say I hate her, but I don't like her very much." Claire laughed. "I know people like that," she said. Asher sighed. "Don't we all, don't we all."


	10. Chapter 10

Across the room Selene surveyed the room with a blank expression. She hadn't wanted to come to the party tonight, but Madam Luseer had insisted, and usually when Madam Luseer insisted on something, it was for a good reason. Selene was trying to figure out that reason when a boy stepped up to her. "Hi," he said. She looked over at him but remained silent. "I'm Jack," he said, holding out a hand. Selene glanced down at it, then back up at him. "What's your name?" Jack asked.

Selene reached out and tentatively shook his hand. "Selene," she said quietly. Jack smiled as Selene crossed her arms behind her back. "That's a nice name," he said. Selene looked at the floor. She wasn't good around people and Madam Luseer constantly told her that she should learn to get better. Selene could learn a language in a month, but it would take her years to become the social butterfly Darya was. "Selene?" Selene looked up.

"Pardon moi?" she asked.

She quickly bit her tongue and winced. Jack laughed. "I didn't realize I was speaking to une belle fille," he replied, his blue eyes sparkling. Selene was surprised; she didn't expect anyone in New York to know French and she sure didn't expect them to be able to speak it. "So how 'bout it, you want to get something to eat?" Jack asked again. Selene shrugged. "Alright," she replied softly.

Jack led her across the room to the buffet where a long line was forming. Selene hugged her arms, feeling exposed in her floor length, sleeveless, forest green dress. Jack picked up a plate and handed it to her before getting his own. "What do you like to eat?" he asked. Selene shrugged as she balanced the plate on her hand. "I don't eat much," she replied. Jack rolled his eyes. "I'd never know," he said. Selene looked at him and he tripped over his words as he replied, "Sorry. I didn't mean it to come out like that. I just mean that, that you're small, so it looks like you don't eat a lot." Selene shrugged. "Don't be sorry, I wasn't angry or anything," she replied.

Jack laughed nervously. "I'm a vegetarian," he said. Selene nodded. "Is this conversation getting awkward?" Jack asked. Selene looked at the floor. "It is isn't it?" Jack pressed.

"It's actually one of the most interesting I've had with another person," Selene mumbled. She looked up at Jack, who had one eyebrow raised. "What do you mean 'with another person'?" he asked slowly. Selene bit her lip. "I talk to myself a lot," she admitted.

She expected Jack to be scared and leave or to call her crazy and leave, but what he did instead astounded her: he burst out laughing. He doubled over and had to put his plate down on the table. Selene could see tears on his cheeks as he clutched his stomach. "Um… Jack… Are you… are you ok?" she asked timidly. He held up a finger, asking for a minute to compose himself. A couple seconds later, when he had finally wiped the tears from his eyes, he faced her and beamed. "You talk to yourself? Really? That's all?" he asked. Selene's eyes widened in surprise and she nodded. "Aren't you… aren't you freaked out?" she asked. Jack laughed again and shook his head, picking up his plate. "Why would I be?" he asked. Selene looked around, keeping her gaze low. "Most people are," she told him.

Jack shook his head. "Well I don't know about the rest of the world, but I talk to myself as well. The way you looked before you said it, I thought you were going to say that you talked to ghosts or something," he said. Selene looked up at him through her eyelashes and saw that he was giving her a kind smile.

They took a couple steps forward in line and Jack changed the conversation. "Do you live around here?" he asked. Selene nodded. "We just moved in," she said.

"Oh?" Jack asked. Selene tried to remember their street name. "We live in an apartment on… Master's Street, around the corner from Webster," she told him. Jack whistled through his teeth. "Damn," he said. "Who are your parents?" Selene shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Madam Luseer. She's our adoptive mother," she replied.

"Oh wow, I mean, I didn't know, I thought-" Selene looked at him, puzzled, and Jack stopped midsentence. "You think I'm offended at the slightest things," she said. "That's not true. No one should be that easy to upset. Being adopted is nothing to be ashamed of."

"No, no, of course not. I just didn't know how you were with it. There aren't many adoptive kids around so I'm not sure how someone would react to telling a stranger about…" Jack trailed off and looked at his feet. Selene could tell that he was blushing. She warily reached out and touched his shoulder. "Jack, it's alright," she said. "There's no need to get worked up." He glanced up at her and Selene smiled. "Madam Luseer is really nice," she said. "and so are my siblings."

Jack straightened and moved forward in line. "Your siblings?" he asked. Selene looked around the room to see if she could find them. Naturally, they were hard to spot and after a couple seconds she gave up looking. Sighing she turned back to Jack. "Yeah. There are Asher, Genevieve, Darya and Dimitri, and myself," she said. Jack's eyes widened in surprised. "Whoa," he said. "Five kids and an apartment on Master's. What does your mom do?" Selene coughed to give her time to figure out an answer. "She works for the government," she told him, feeling that that was a suitable answer. Jack nodded in understanding. "Well then," he said. Selene waited for him to finish the sentence but he didn't. Silence crept between the two of them and Selene started to feel uncomfortable again. She looked around the room and scuffed the floor with her shoe, trying to figure out what to do. Only languages poured into her head and she had a hard time pushing them away. She wanted to be in the moment, she wanted to talk to Jack, not be swept into a daze.

"Do you go to Webster?" she asked after several minutes. Jack nodded. "Yeah. Most of the people you'll meet at this party do," he replied. Selene stared down at the white dust mark on the front of her black shoe. She hated when conversation went nowhere. She hated conversations period but with Jack they seemed simple. "Are all of you going?" Jack asked. Selene looked up. "Pardon me?" she asked.

"Are all of your going to Webster? You and your siblings?" Jack rephrased. Selene nodded. "Genevieve's really excited," she told him. Jack laughed quietly. "And why is that?" he asked.

"She likes to learn things," she replied. She ran her thumb around the edge of the plate. "What kind of things?" Jack asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Secret things," Selene replied. Every muscle in her body went rigid and her hands flew to her mouth, letting her plate fall to the floor. Jack took a step back as the plate hit the floor and smashed. Selene retreated backwards, thinking of nothing but the secret she had just told him. Jack looked up at her, confusion and shock prominent in his features. "Selene! Wait!" he called. He reached out a hand for her as she turned and ran into the crowd.


	11. Chapter 11

Genevieve watched the scene from afar, and even though she didn't hear what had happened, she knew what Selene had said. Genevieve laughed as she watched Selene flee through the crowd and out the door of the hall. "That girl needs to learn to calm down," she said to herself. "She's paranoid. Paranoid and scared." And she had the right to be. The right to be scared because if anyone was going to get angry, it would be either Genevieve or Madam Luseer. Everyone else was weak in Genevieve's eyes, they were too soft, they let people get away with too much.

She took a sip from her glass and glanced back to the scene that Selene had just left. The boy was staring at the doors, as though he hoped that Selene would come back. The only other person in the vicinity of the scene was a waiter with a brush and dustpan, cleaning up the pieces of the broken plate. Everyone else had left after they realized that nothing spectacular had happened. "Such short minded people," Genevieve said.

"Who's short minded?" Genevieve whirled around to see a girl leaning up against the wall behind her. Light brown curls framed her heart shaped face and her hazel eyes shone out from behind black horn rimmed glasses. "Who's short minded?" the girl asked again.

"Those rich people over there. They swarm to an accident like moths to a flame and yet, if they find that there isn't anything to entertain them, they leave. The light has been turned off," Genevieve replied. The girl nodded and smiled knowingly. "You get used to it after a while," she said. Genevieve raised an eyebrow. "I'm Robin," the girl said. "My father is one of those 'rich people over there'." Genevieve's eyes widened. "Oh! Well excuse me. I didn't know who I was speaking to," she said hastily. Robin laughed and waved the apology off.

"It's no problem; I know what you're saying. They really are like moths," she said. Genevieve smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Genevieve Luseer," she said. Robin walked over at shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Genevieve," she said. Genevieve nodded in acknowledgment and looked around the hall. "It seems to me like you are around these people a lot," she said. She looked back at Robin, who had one eyebrow delicately raised. "What makes you say that?" Robin asked.

"Well you seem at ease," Genevieve explained. "You don't seem nervous and you're known well enough that people aren't signalling out the fact that you're lounging around near the outskirts of the hall." She stopped talking long enough to gesture to Robin's dress. "Your dress shows that you aren't trying to attract attention, you're not trying to show off, and you don't need to impress anyone. Your dress is simple and black."

Robin was silent for a moment before she started to clap. "Well done," she said, a smile blossoming on her face. "Well done, and you're right." Genevieve smirked. "I'm hardly ever wrong," she replied. Robin laughed. "If you're going to be around us, then you'd better get used to your ideas being challenged. Most of us are like you in the sense that we like to think that we are never wrong," Robin told her. Genevieve took a sip from her drink and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "And who is this collective that you are talking about?" she asked.

Robin gestured with her arm towards the entire hall. "All these people," she said. She brought her hand back and rested her fingertips below the nape of her neck. "Myself included," she added with a sly smile. Genevieve chuckled and handed off her glass to a passing waiter. She crossed her arms and stared at Robin."Thanks for the tip," Genevieve said. Robin shrugged and started to walk away. "Not a problem," she replied. Stopping behind Genevieve she turned around. "Are you going to Webster?" Robin asked. Genevieve nodded as she turned. "Of course," she replied. "It's the best school in the area"

Robin laughed. "Coltan would say different, but I agree with you; Webster is the best school in the area."

"Where's Coltan?" Genevieve asked. Robin tapped her bottom lip with a finger as her eyes shifted behind her glasses. "It's over near Oaklay Road," she said. "By the history museum." Genevieve opened her mental map of New York and tried to place the area that Robin was talking about. "Oh," Genevieve said. "Alright then. I know the building you're talking about."

"They think that they're the best," Robin told her. "But every year at the Spring Games we show them up. We always win." She crossed her arms and shook her hair back triumphantly. Genevieve smiled and crossed her arms. She was going to have fun at Webster.

Outside of the hall Darya wandered up and down the corridors, looking in every open door for Selene. Darya sighed and looked into another room. Nothing. Suddenly a clear piano note came from down the hall. Darya smiled and broke into a run. "Selene!" She skidded to a stop in the doorway and stared into the room. A boy sat at the piano with another standing behind him. Darya recognised the second boy as Asher. "Asher?" she asked.

Asher turned and his blue eyes gleamed. "Darya," he said with a smile. He held open an arm in welcome. "Come here." Darya slowly walked over and he placed his arm around her shoulders. "This is Dylan," he said. The boy looked from the keys, though his fingers still moved across them. "Hey," he said. Darya gave a small smile. "Hey," she replied. "What are you playing?"

"Rhapsody and blue," Dylan replied. Darya didn't know what that was, but it sounded impressive. She smiled and nodded. "Neat," she said. Dylan laughed and Darya looked up at Asher, who smiled down at her. Darya looked back at Dylan, or more specifically, his hands. They flew rhythmically and smoothly across the keys, barely pressing down before moving and pressing another.

"Do you play?" Dylan asked, interrupting Darya's daze. She blinked and shook her head. "Uh, no. No I don't," she stammered. Asher squeezed her shoulder and Darya got the message. "Oh, wait, sorry. I do play the piano, I thought you were asking if I played Rhapsody and Blue," Darya corrected herself. Dylan looked up at her and smiled. "That's cool. Maybe we could play together some time," he offered. Darya nodded, hoping that she didn't look too excited. Inside her heart was pounding like crazy and her stomach was in a butterfly knot.

"Did you say that you were looking for Selene?" Asher asked. Darya glanced up at him, confused for a moment. He raised an already arched eyebrow and waited for her to respond. "Oh!" Darya exclaimed. "Damn! Yeah! Have you seen her?" Asher shook his head and Darya looked at her feet, grumbling under her breath. "Who's Selene?" Dylan asked.

"She's our sister," Asher explained. Darya nodded. "She ran out of the hall after something happened and I wanted to go find her and make sure that she's ok," she explained.

"Where's Dimitri?" Asher asked. Darya looked up at him. "He's off looking for her as well. He took one corridor and I took the other."

"Who's Dimitri?" Dylan asked.

"He's my twin," Darya replied. Dylan nodded and continued to play. Darya motioned for Asher to lower his head. "Did you tell him about us?" she whispered.

"About our adopted family?" Asher confirmed. Darya nodded. "Yeah, I did," Asher replied. Darya sighed. "Is that ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," Darya replied. Asher straightened and ruffled Darya's hair. Darya grumbled again and flattened her hair down. "I'm going to meet up with Dimitri and see if we can find Selene," she said.

"Good luck," Dylan told her. Darya bit her lip and smiled. "Thanks," she replied quietly.

On the other side of the building Dimitri had just found Selene. She was sitting on the floor of a closet in an unlocked storage room. Dimitri was currently sitting next to her, waiting patiently for her to speak. "Are you angry at me?" she asked after ten minutes.

"Why would I be angry at you?" Dimitri replied. Selene shifted and tapped her fingers on her knees. "Genevieve knows what I did, she has to. Did she tell you guys?" Dimitri shook his head. "I haven't seen her since we got here. And what could you possible do that would equal in us being mad at you?" Selene looked away and Dimitri saw a single tear on her cheek. "Selene..." He reached over and gently wiped the tear away. "Tell me. You know that, out of everyone in the house, I'm the one that you can tell anything to." Selene nodded.

"I told this guy... Jack... about what Genevieve can do," she whispered. Dimitri was quiet for a second. "What exactly did you say?" Selene wrung her hands together. "Well we were talking about Webster and I said that Genevieve would like the school and he asked why..." She trailed off. "He asked why and I said that she liked to learn things and he asked what she liked to learn..." Selene bit her lip and Dimitri saw her body go rigid, as though she was expecting him to hit her.

"I told him that she liked to learn secret things." Dimitri sat there, waiting for her to finish her sentence. He waited a full five minutes before he realized that she didn't have anything else to say. "That's it?" he asked. Selene gave a sharp nod. Dimitri coughed to cover up a laugh. "That... That's it?" he asked. Selene looked at him, her brown eyes wide. "You didn't tell him anything," Dimitri said. Selene looked confused. "But I... Yes I did," she pressed. Dimitri couldn't help it, he gave a little chuckle. Looking back at his sister he saw hurt evident on her features.

"Sorry," he said. "It... It slipped out." Selene looked at her feet and tapped them one after another. Dimitri placed a hand on her knee and she withdrew from his touch. "You didn't tell him anything. You're just paranoid so you worry too much about what you think you say," he said. Selene looked over at him. "You think so?" she asked. Dimitri nodded. "I'm sure of it. You rarely speak, even to us, and when you do you pause before you say anything. It's like you're analyzing what you're about to say, just in case you tell us some secret or something." Selene looked away. Dimitri had hit the nail right on the head. It was true. She did analyze what she said no matter what language she was speaking. She had so many secrets that she was afraid she would let slip.

Dimitri reached over and took her hand. "How about we go find Darya, ok? She was worried about you so she went out looking for you." Selene looked at him and Dimitri gave her a small smile. "Come on," he said. Selene nodded and Dimitri helped her to her feet. They left the closet, Selene still worried about keeping all her secrets.


	12. Chapter 12

Darya lowered herself farther into the bathwater and she sighed. "Perfect," she mumbled. She leaned her head back over the edge of the bathtub, her neck perched on a folded up purple hand towel. She slid her hands from the edge of the tub into the warm water and smiled. The party had been fun and Dylan had been nice but it was good to be home. The apartment was quiet around her and the air was still and cool.

Darya stretched her toes out to rub against the end of the bathtub. The porcelain was smooth and felt nice on her feet. She shivered in delight and slid even deeper into the water. Closing her eyes she brought into her mind's eye the picture of a blank piece of paper. It was easy, since she did it so often. Any time before she drew a picture she always drew it in her head. There she did her erasing and her detailing and her refining, so then when she finally drew it on actual paper it was perfect.

Right now she was drawing a picture of herself at a piano, the book on the stand being one of a high level. She wasn't sure which level yet, since she knew nothing about playing the piano, but she was going to look it up after she got out of the bath.

She trailed her fingers across the surface of the water, sketching out the picture. The piano, large and elegant. Herself, simply clothed with hair tied up. Nothing too fancy, just a simple picture, just the way she'd look when she actually played.

Opening her eyes she realized that she'd have to ask Madam Luseer if they could buy a piano. To help with her argument, the others would probably play with it too. Well, everyone but Genevieve, who spent most of her time curled up on the couch with a thick leather-bound book or in her room doing who knows what.

That's where she probably was right now, curled up on the couch. Selene would probably be across the room reading one of her language books, sneaking glances at Genevieve every couple minutes. Asher would be in the kitchen cooking while Dimitri sat at the island and watched him. And when Darya got out of the bath, she'd go and sit next to her twin and draw. It was after eight, which was what Madam Luseer called 'family time'. If they were awake after eight it was a rule that they had to be in the open concept area that was used as their dining room, living room, and kitchen.

A knock on the door brought Darya out of her thoughts. "Who is it?" she asked.

"Who do you think?" Dimitri answered. Darya laughed. "What's up?" she called.

"Asher's making dinner and he wants to know if you're going to eat," Dimitri replied. Darya smiled; she had been right. "Tell him that I'll have a little of whatever he's making! I'll be down in a couple minutes!"

"Alright." Darya waited until she heard the door to her bedroom close before she took out the plug from the bathtub drain. She carefully stood up and grabbed her purple towel from the top of the toilet seat. As the water continued to whirlpool itself down the drain Darya stepped out onto the fuzzy bathmat and wrapped herself in her towel. Smiling she opened the bathroom door and let the steam spread out into her bedroom.

Looking around her smile fell. Someone had opened the window above her desk and now the hand drawn pictures that usually adorned her walls were scattered across the room. She bent down and picked up one that lay at her feet. It was a simple sketch of her and Dimitri. Nothing special, not drawn in her special pencil. She walked over to her bed and climbed up, where she stuck the picture back to the white wall. Climbing down she frowned as she walked over to her desk. With one hand she closed the window and then turned to face her room.

"Well that's one way to kill a good day," she muttered. It would take her forever to put all the pictures back up. When they were all up there wasn't a spot of white wall visible. Sighing she went to her bed and rummaged under her pillow for her pyjamas. Pulling them on she took another glance around the room. Besides the fact that all her pictures were on the floor, something else was wrong. As she dried her hair with the towel she paced around her room, counting. By the time she got back to the bathroom she was furious.

She threw her towel across the room and stormed out into the hall. She took the stairs two at a time and jumped over every landing. "Alright! Who took them!" she screamed, bursting into the open concept. Everyone looked up at her, their faces masks of confusion. "What are you talking about?" Dimitri asked, rising from his chair.

"Who was in my room?" Darya asked again. "Someone came in my room and left the window open. My pictures are everywhere and someone took some!" She noticed Selene shift in her seat and Darya's hands twitched at her sides.

"Take it easy Darya, it's only a couple pictures," Genevieve remarked. Darya switched her glare to her. Genevieve glanced up lazily from her book and smirked. "Calm down," she said. Darya ground her teeth together and stormed up to her. Before she could reach her Dimitri had her by the arms and was pulling her back. He shushed her quietly and Darya looked over at Selene. "Selene," she said. "Did you take them?" Selene flicked a single page back and forth, not meeting Darya's gaze. "Selene?" Darya asked, her voice becoming louder. Selene still didn't look up. Darya sighed and stared down at her bare feet, at the chipping red nail polish on her toes.

"I'm sorry." Selene's voice drifted across the room, quiet and soft. Darya looked up and even from the other side of the room she saw the tears in her eyes. Darya bit her lip and felt Dimitri's hands running up and down her arms, attempting to comfort her. Darya shrugged out of his arms and walked over to the island, where Asher was holding a spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other. She slid onto a stool and crossed her arms on the table while the room around her remained silent.

"Darya?" Selene asked quietly. Darya heard her walk over and a handful of pictures appeared in view. "I'm sorry." Darya kicked her foot against the island and shrugged. Selene's cold hand brushed along her shoulder but didn't rest on it. "It's fine," Darya snapped. Selene withdrew and Darya looked over at her. "Just don't come in my room again, and don't you even dare think of taking my pictures again." Selene visibly started to tremble and her hands started to shake. A few stray tears rolled down her face and Darya looked away. She hated to see anyone upset, especially Selene, but what she had done was unforgivable. No one touched Darya's pictures, let alone dare take them from her walls.

"I... I just wanted to borrow... to borrow-" Selene stammered.

"You don't touch them without asking!" Darya yelled. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Selene stumble backwards and trip over her own feet. She landed on her backside, looking like a cornered animal. "That's enough." Everyone looked to the front door, where Madam Luseer stood with her arms crossed. Her murderous glare made them all flinch. "I thought that you were young adults, not children," she snapped.

Asher set down the frying pan and turned the stove off. The spatula he laid gently on the counter. When Madam Luseer was angry it wasn't wise to make quick moments. She would pick up on them and that would set her off even more. "Now what is going on here?" she asked. Asher looked over at Genevieve, who's evil smile had caught his attention. Dimitri cleared his throat and Asher looked at Madam Luseer, who was watching them all with calculating eyes. "Well?" she pressed.

"Nothing is going on Madam," Darya replied quietly.

"Well then why am I hearing yelling from down the hall?" she asked.

"We were having a debate," Darya said smoothly. "We didn't mean to be so loud."

"How come Selene is on the floor if you were just having a debate?"

"It-It was an accident," Selene replied quickly. She got up and took a step back in Darya's direction. "I tripped over myself."

Madam Luseer tapped her foot and the sound echoed around the high ceilinged, penthouse apartment. "Asher," she instructed. "Is this all true?" Darya and Selene both turned and looked at him. He nodded. "Yes Madam," he said. Madam Luseer pursed her lips. "Well then," she said. "Don't be so loud next time." With that she turned on her heel and stalked up the stairs.


	13. Chapter 13

The entire room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Asher leaned against the counter, Darya slouched in her seat, Selene slid down the island to sit on the floor, and Dimitri ran his hands through his hair. Only Genevieve seemed unfazed. "Thanks Asher," Darya mumbled. Asher chuckled quietly. "No prob," he said.

"You're all nuts," Dimitri commented. Darya laughed and looked down at Selene. "Sorry," she said. Selene shook her head. "What are you apologizing for?" she asked. "I'm the one who took your pictures."

"How about we say this," Asher interrupted. "Darya's sorry for yelling at you and you're sorry for taking her pictures. How about that?" Darya and Selene both laughed, which made Asher smile. "Deal," Darya said. Selene nodded.

Closing his eyes Asher reflected on how much of an influence Madam Luseer had them. When they were all angry and crazed, like just now, she could sooth and calm them. And when they were happy and laughing she could send them to destroy each other. The house had to be kept in balance for the sake of everyone's sanity.

"What are you making?" Darya asked, intruding on Asher's thoughts. Asher shook his head and raised it, keeping his eyes closed. "Uh, well, I was making omelettes..." He finally opened his eyes and looked down at the yellow circle sitting in the middle of the frying pan. "It doesn't look too appetizing now though..." Darya laughed and Asher sighed inwardly; everything was back to normal.

An hour later the five children were sitting around the living room eating pizza and watching scary movies. Darya and Dimitri were spread out on one couch with Darya lying on top of her brother, while Genevieve occupied the other couch with a thick book at her feet. Selene sat in her chair, knees pulled up to her chest clutching a pillow and Asher was perched on the end of the twin's couch, chewing on a piece of pizza crust.

The movie finished and silence filled the room as the credits started to roll. Then Darya yawned and the room sprang to life. Dimitri sat up, pulling his sister with him, Genevieve tugged off her black sweater and placed it neatly above her head, Selene stretched out her legs and placed her pillow beside the chair, and Asher got up to dispose of the pizza boxes. "Well that was a stupid ending," Darya commented. Dimitri chuckled. "They should have made him go back to his wife and you should have seen if the kid had really died or not," he added. Genevieve rolled her eyes and sighed. "Instead they made it seem as though they are going to make a sequel," she said.

Dimitri caught Genevieve's eye and they stared at each other before looking away. Darya laughed and Selene giggled. Asher smiled as he sat himself back at the end of the couch. Dimitri and Genevieve never agreeded, so when they did everyone thought it was funny. "Let's watch another," Darya suggested, jumping up. Asher was right behind her as she went to browse through their large collection of movies. "Not another horror please," Selene requested softly. Genevieve shook her head. "No more horror for a while, that's our tenth this week..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at Selene. Both their eyes went wide and Dimitri, Asher, and Darya turned to stare at them. "You two just..." Darya couldn't finish her sentence.

"You guys just agreed with each other!" Asher exclaimed, helping to finish Darya's sentence. Dimitri mock fainted, falling off the couch with a thud. It was even less common for Selene and Genevieve to agree. Darya gave a little scream and hid her face in Asher's shirt. "There are children in the room for God's sake!" Asher cried. Genevieve cracked a smile and Selene threw her pillow at Dimitri. "Shut up," Genevieve said. Selene giggled slightly and nodded. "Yeah, shut up," she echoed.

Dimitri shifted and perched himself on one elbow. Darya turned around and leaned against Asher, who draped an arm around her shoulders. "So if these two don't want another horror, then what should we watch?" Asher asked. Dimitri shrugged. "I'm not in the mood for another movie," he said. The room went quiet for a moment, everyone thinking. "Then let's not watch a movie," Asher suggested.

"What should we do?" Darya asked. Asher smiled mischievously and ran across the room to the large black stereo that sat up against the wall. He rummaged through a stack of CD's before inserting one into the player. A remix came from the speakers, half modern hip hop and half classic instrumental. Asher danced over and pulled Selene out of her chair. He took her by the hand and spun her around as Dimitri and Genevieve both sat up. "Let's dance," Asher announced. He pulled Selene towards him and she smiled brightly. Darya bounded over and grabbed Dimitri's hand, pulling him up. The two pairs danced around the room as Genevieve was struck by an idea. She raced upstairs and returned with her violin case.

Asher broke into laughter as Genevieve moved her bow along with the beat of the music pouring from the stereo system. The minute the song changed Asher released Selene and went up to Genevieve to whom he bowed. "Would you care to dance?" he asked. Genevieve looked at him sceptically and he touched her hand that held the bow. "Come, dance with me," he urged, his smile charming.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," Genevieve noted, putting her violin away. As he pulled her away Asher laughed. "Well I am a very lucky man," he said. Genevieve rolled her eyes as they started to dance around the living room. Selene backed off of the "dance floor" and pushed the chairs and couches back, giving everyone more room.

Sometime late into the night, around one o'clock in the morning, Madam Luseer was heard coming down the stairs. The music was still playing and everyone was still dancing: Dimitri and Darya, and Asher and Selene. Genevieve was seated cross legged on the dining room table playing away on her violin. Even when Madam Luseer reached the bottom of the steps none of the children noticed her. Then she cleared her throat and everyone stopped. Dimitri, who was closest to the stereo, quickly turned it off.

"Well children," Madam Luseer said slowly. "I'm glad to see that you are having such a great time but, as you haven't noticed, it is getting late. You may all sleep down here but I'd like you to shut down the loud activities for the night." Everyone glanced at each other before looking at Madam Luseer and nodding. Madam Luseer smiled and bowed her head. "Thank you. Now, goodnight." She retreated back up the stairs and the room was silent until they all heard the echo of her door snapping closed.


	14. Chapter 14

Darya looked at Dimitri and bit her lip to keep from smiling. Asher covered his mouth with his hand and collapsed onto one of the couches. Genevieve coughed and started to pack up her violin. Selene wasn't as smooth as the rest of them so it was her that broke the silence. She giggled, then tried to cover her mouth with her hand. Darya turned to look at her just as she burst into a fit of laughter. Selene doubled over, clutching her stomach, while the rest of them tried their hardest not to laugh themselves.

Dimitri went over and pulled Selene towards him, smiling to avoid laughing. "St-Stop," he begged. Selene shook her head and buried her face in his shirt. Dimitri looked at the others for help. Darya tugged on Selene's sleeve. "Come on, don't do this to us. You're going to get us all busted," she pleaded. Around fits of laughter Selene spoke, "S-Sorry guys!" Guiding her to the unoccupied couch they handed her a pillow, which she covered her face with. "At least her laughter is quiet," Genevieve pointed out, coming over and seating herself next to Selene. She patted her sister on the back and smirked. "She's actually kind of cute when she's like this."

That silenced Selene, who looked up at Genevieve in complete awe. "I... I'm _what_?" she stuttered.

"I said that you're actually kind of cute when you're laughing," Genevieve repeated. Selene looked over at her, silenced by her words of praise. Genevieve smiled. "You don't think I'm serious do you?" she asked. Selene let out a sigh of relief, as did Darya, Asher, and Dimitri. "Thank god," Dimitri muttered. "I thought you were serious. I was going to call 911 or something." Genevieve chuckled quietly and kicked out at Dimitri. "That's the Genevieve we all know," Dimitri replied, smiling.

Genevieve sighed and leaned back against the couch. "So what are we doing? Because I personally do not want to go upstairs," she asked. Selene shrugged, but didn't reply. "Let's crash down here," Darya offered.

"Sounds good to me," Asher seconded.

"It works," Dimitri finalized. "I'll grab some blankets from the cupboard while you guys put the furniture back."

In a couple minutes the living room was back in place. Darya was curled up at one end of the couch with Selene on the other, Dimitri was next to them on the floor with Asher next to him, and Genevieve was stretched out on the other couch. They had put another movie on for something to do, but no one was paying attention. Darya had talked Selene into letting her play with her hair, so Selene was sitting in front of her while Darya put little braids in her hair. Dimitri had his eyes closed, hands clasped over his chest, appearing to be asleep; Asher was in the kitchen pouring himself something to drink, and Genevieve was once again reading.

By the time the credits started play everyone was bored out of their minds. "What time is it?" Dimitri asked. Darya glanced at her watch. "About three in the morning," she replied. Asher laughed. "Whoa. Is anyone tired?" No one replied. "I'll take that as a no," he said, sitting up and stretching.

"Let's play a game," Darya offered.

"What kind of game?" Selene asked.

Darya shrugged. "I don't know. A talking game."

Genevieve rolled her eyes. "A talking game, wow. What kind of game is that?"

"Like truth or dare," Darya clarified.

"That sounds fun," Asher said. Selene nodded. "Then let's play," Dimitri said. They all repositioned themselves so that they faced each other. "Any boundaries?" Genevieve asked.

"No food dares, those are boring and annoying and Madam Luseer will find out one way or another," Darya said.

"Let's just do school and people dares," Asher suggested. "Since we'll be starting school soon."

Selene bit her lip. "Guys..." Darya wrapped an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. "It'll be fine Selene, I promise." Selene looked down at her hands. "I'll start," Genevieve announced. "Dimitri, truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Have you ever seen your sister naked?"

Dimitri paused. "Which one?"

Genevieve rolled her eyes. "Darya of course."

"Once I guess, since I'm the oldest."

Darya laughed. "Thanks, I really needed that."

"Alright... Asher. Truth or dare?" Dimitri asked.

"Dare."

"I dare you, on the first day of school, to ask the first girl you see out. No cheating."

Asher laughed. "You sure? That's your dare?"

Dimitri nodded. "Yep."

Asher smirked. "Alright then. Well... Selene, truth or dare."

Selene was quiet for a moment. "Truth."

"How many languages do you know?"

Selene was taken aback. "Well... I know-"

"That's not a fair question," Genevieve interrupted. "One, it's not possible to answer seeing as though she might not know an entire language, and two, it's too easy!"

"You're sticking up for her?" Asher asked.

"No, I'm just telling you to ask her something else," Genevieve stammered.

Asher smiled and leaned back on his elbows. "Fine. Selene, if you had to pick between Dimitri and I, who would you rather date if we weren't your brothers?"

Selene looked from Asher to Dimitri and back again. "No... No offense Dimitri, but Asher."

"Why?" Asher asked.

Selene clasped her hands in her lap and stared at them, letting her braided hair fall down to cover her face. "Because you make me happy and you don't make me feel alone. You have a presence. Dimitri you... you're nice and everything but you're too calm to make me feel any different."

No one spoke. "Um... Darya, truth or dare?" Selene asked.

"Dare."

"I dare you to go to school one day with your entire face painted bright pink."

Darya coughed and covered her mouth to conceal a laugh. "Alright then, well, make sure to have your camera ready."

Selene smiled. "I will do just that."

"Now, Genevieve!" Darya announced. "Truth or dare, the mighty question!"

Genevieve sighed. "Truth."

Darya leaned forward and stared at Genevieve through squinted eyes. "Why are you such a-" Before she could finish her sentence Dimitri smacked her on the arm. Darya looked down at him then back at Genevieve. "Fine then. Genevieve, what do you look for in a guy?"

"What kind of question is that?" Genevieve shot back.

"An intriguing one," Darya replied.

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is! Now answer it!"

Genevieve sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Tall, dark haired, bright eyes. He has to be smart or I won't even consider going out with him."

Asher laughed. "Tall, dark, handsome, and smart. Isn't that our lovely Dimitri right here?" He patted Dimitri on the back and Genevieve glared at him. "Just playing, just playing," Asher assured.

Genevieve straightened her shoulders and sat back. "Asher, truth or dare."

"Dare baby."

That awarded him another glare from Genevieve's cold blue eyes. "I dare you to jump from our balcony." That got a round of groans.

"Come on Genevieve baby, you can do better than that," Asher pressured.

"I dare you to go drunk to school on the first day."

Asher cringed. "That's a little too good."

Genevieve crossed her arms. "God, you're so picky."

"I wouldn't have to be if you weren't so bad at this."

"Guys, guys!" Dimitri interrupted. "Enough! I'll go! Selene, truth or dare?"

Genevieve settled back into the couch as Asher looked away. Selene gave a small glare to the both of them, then looked at Dimitri. "Dare," she replied in a small voice.

Dimitri whistled through his teeth. "Alright then... Tomorrow I want you to go out and strike up a conversation with the first person our age that you see."

All the colour drained from Selene's face. "Wha-what?"

Dimitri smiled and Selene glanced around, hoping that someone would save her. Realizing that no one was going to help her, she bit her lip and stared at the ground. "Darya," she said whispered. "Truth or dare."

"Dare."

"I dare you... I dare you to come out with me tomorrow to Central Park and sing a song at the top of your lungs."

Darya laughed. "You guys are giving me easy ones! Come on, you can do better!"

Selene pouted slightly and curled up at her end of the couch. Darya rubbed her arm and smiled kindly. "Selene, it's fine, it's fine. I was just saying. No need to get upset."

Selene closed her eyes and buried her face in her pillow. Darya sighed and turned back to Genevieve, Dimitri, and Asher. "I guess that Selene's not playing anymore." She shrugged. "Dimitri, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Asher."

The room went silent as Dimitri looked at Asher, who blushed at the same time Dimitri did. A few seconds passes before Dimitri leaned over and pressed his lips to Asher's. For a brief second they stayed connected, then Dimitri pulled away and looked in the other direction.

"Genevieve," Dimitri said. "Truth or dare."

Genevieve paused for a moment before replying. "Dare."

"You can't be mean for the rest of the winter holidays. So that's about a week. You can't make sarcastic comments, you can't tease, nothing." He looked at her and smiled.

Genevieve stammered, trying to find something to shoot back at him. Dimitri's smile grew and he shook his head. Genevieve closed her mouth and lay back on the couch, pulling her blanket over her and turning away. "And then there were three," Asher voiced. Dimitri chuckled.

"You go," he told Asher.

Asher rubbed his hands together. "Darya, truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Would you ever go out with a girl?"

Darya was silent for a moment, and when she spoke her words were slow and thought through. "I... would. But it would have to strongly depend on the girl. Not just any... she has to be special."

"So no flings? One night stands?" Asher concluded.

Darya nodded. "I wouldn't even have one of those with a guy, but the chance of me doing it with a girl is even smaller."

Asher nodded and Darya looked over at Dimitri, who shrugged. "Truth or dare," Darya asked him.

"How about we stop the game for tonight," Dimitri replied. "We're all tired."

Asher yawned and lay back on the floor. "See you in the morning." With that he turned over and it was just Darya and Dimitri left. Darya slowly got down off the couch and sat next to Dimitri, who pulled her in for a hug. "I love you," he whispered. Darya rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you too," she replied. Dimitri moved so that he was leaning up against the couch. "Are you cold?" he asked. "You're shivering." Without waiting for an answer he pulled his blanket up and over the two of them. "Asher's weird sometimes," Darya pointed out. Dimitri chuckled.

"That he is, that he is," he replied. Darya sighed and moved closer to her twin. "This was a fun night. We should have more nights like this," she said. Dimitri nodded and tucked a piece of Darya's hair behind her ear. "It was fun, but I'm not sure how many we'll have. Treasure them little sister, treasure them." Darya laughed quietly. "I will, I will."

"Good night," Dimitri whispered. Darya smiled and replied, half asleep, "Good night."

* * *

**_AN: _I cannot thank you enough for reading this story. It started out as my own creation but then I realized that it followed the 'Another Faust' storyline/idea too much, so I turned it into a fanfiction. This is all I have written and all I plan to write, so I hope that you like what you have read.**

**Thank you again.**


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